


A Progression of Sorts

by All_Terrain_Nerd



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: And preemptively apologizes, Anxiety, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bi Matt Murdock, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gay Peter Parker, Humor, I'm Just Bad At Tagging, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Superfamily (Marvel), The tags make it look sad but it's not, Trans Male Character, Trans Peter Parker, is it humor if only I think it's funny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-11-06 12:12:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11035959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_Terrain_Nerd/pseuds/All_Terrain_Nerd
Summary: Matt and Peter come out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm Matt (no relation (obviously)), and welcome to my late night ramblings. Please let me know thoughts, opinions, and corrections in the comments. Thanks for reading!

_I told him that I love him. And then_ I  _ran away.  
_  
Sure, it hadn't been the most… momentous declaration. Peter and Matt had been curled up on the couch after walking back from the Chinese place a few blocks over. The lawyer was recounting his tale of fighting with Deadpool during their patrol the previous night after the merc made a comment about “Spidey’s impeccably perfect behind.” The night had ended with a temporarily broken jaw for Wade and a broken cane for Matt. And that's when Peter let it slip.  
  
They had been together for about three months, and Peter already kept a few spare spidey-suits and some civilian clothes at Matt's apartment. Most of the time, he slept over, but technically still lives with his family in the Avengers’ tower, despite almost being twenty. It is mostly for safety, but also for convenience. Super suits are hard to fix! And state of the art lab access is not exactly included in the average New York flat.  
  
In their time together, Peter had discovered many things he absolutely _adores_ about Matt. His organization, for example. It is kind of mandatory, but it never ceases to amaze him. The way he breaks his Daredevil persona to laugh at Peter’s weird jokes and fire back some of his own is another. His way with words, however, just did _things_ to Peter, but that's irrelevant and untouched upon. He's able to get his point across in as many or as few words as he likes, as complicated or as simple as he needs. While Peter can manipulate the physical world in his scientific endeavors, Matt can craft a new plane of existence for a select few to experience.  
  
Even though he'd always been self conscious about almost every aspect of his being, Peter learned to let go and relax around Matt. Sure, sometimes he would overanalyze _everything_ until nothing made sense. He'd always come to the conclusion that his boyfriend shouldn't like him, because why would he want a skinny nerd with dysmorphic tendencies? This line of thinking had triggered a few panic attacks with and without Matt around, but Matt always knew what to do, how to take care of him. After being reassured that he really _did_ want to be with Peter after a particularly nasty one, their relationship strengthened to new heights. Peter had wished to keep their relationship a secret, however, despite their affinity for one another. The third member of their team was constantly flirting with him, so Peter wasn't sure how he would respond to the news or if everything would go downhill. Besides, superpowered overprotective family members were waiting across a bridge that Peter didn't want to cross yet.  
  
Peter loves listening to Matt talk about and explain anything, and that night proved to be no exception. He had only been half listening to the actual content of the words, but he had been avidly following the way the hand that wasn't in Peter’s hair gestured and those pale, unseeing eyes flickered around the room as the tale continued. _My knight in shining leather. God, I love you_. As he declared those fateful words, Peter felt Matt’s hand still and saw his eyes widen slightly in his shocked stupor. Seeing that reaction was all that Peter needed to climb out of the window to get air, to get calm, to _think_. Fortunately, he already had his costume on in preparation for patrol. Unfortunately, no air came readily to his lungs, there was no calm, and there sure as hell wasn’t any rational thinking. As he sprinted to the window, all he could hear was his rushing blood and internal chant of _stupid stupid stupid_ and maybe Matt was saying something, but it was impossible to hear over the dissonant trepidation.  
  
In his panic-fueled escape, he only got to the roof of his building before removing his mask and sitting on the far edge with his head in his hands. _He’s going to hate me. The light in my life is leaving me because I can't keep my stupid mouth shut when I need to. I ruined everything._ Peter, engrossed in his, admittedly, toxic thoughts, did not realize that there was a figure behind him until he spoke.  
  
“Baby boy, if you're going sit and brood like the cutest Batman I've ever seen, you really could do it in my lap.”  
  
Startled, he quickly wiped away his tears and then turned around to see his friend? Partner? Work buddy? Sort of stalker? Whatever the merc is, Peter turned around to see Deadpool walking over towards the edge of the roof with two boxes of pizza in one hand and a duffel bag with a red shard poking out of it.  
  
Peter cleared his throat, just in case, before responding. “Hi, DP. I'm not brooding; I'm fine. And even _if_ I were, I'd have to decline your ever courteous suggestion. So, pizza tonight? No Mexican?”  
  
“Well, I suppose I have to keep my record of being unpredictable somehow,” he shrugged and then paused, listening for a moment before mumbling “that’s what she said” to himself and looking back up to where Peter was waiting. “Anyhoo, meat lovers for me, and in tr- wait one hot second! Why is your mask off, young man? It's too cold! Look, your eyes are running and shit. I don’t get cold, but that seems bad. Anyways, pepperoni pie for _my_ Petey-Pie.”  
  
“I—uh—thanks, Wade, but I’ve already eaten,” Peter stammered while making room for the mercenary. Usually, he'd be able to roll with whatever crazy thing Deadpool was saying with something a bit more eloquent, but after everything going on in his private life? Sarcasm was, surprisingly, not at the top of Peter’s priority list. _Actually, that was pretty sarcastic._ Besides, the possessiveness threw him off guard. After a brief expanse of tense silence, Peter felt compelled to break it with a question that would hopefully set Wade off rambling for a while, giving him enough time to compose himself. “Is there any particular reason you've got something sticking out of your bag? It looks broken.”  
  
“Funny you should mention that,” Wade abashedly scratched the back of his neck and continued, “It's actually ‘cause me and Matlock got in a bit of an—err—argument about a day ago. Don't get mad! I know you guys are friends, or whatever, but, I mean, I was gonna return it, but then you were looking all sad and cute over here. And also, why are _you_ on his roo—oh, hey, speak of the Devil. See what I did there! Oh! And there! I'm on a roll! Come on, Matty, you kno-"  
  
“Wade, why are you here?” deadpanned the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, approaching from around a chimney with about 1.4 billy clubs on his hips. He walked directly towards Peter and stood close enough to him to make Wade cock an eyebrow beneath his mask. After glaring (is it glaring if he's blind _and_  you can't see his eyes?) at Wade, Matt turned towards a very nervous spider with a small smile. “Spider-Man, are you ok? I'm glad to see you, but I was hoping to speak to you privately for a moment.” Peter was only able to open his mouth before he was interrupted.  
  
“Well, I gue-" the mercenary began to say as he walked to where he had left the bag.  
  
“Save the blind jokes for later, ‘Pool. Your limitation of three per encounter still applies,” Matt sighed, then looked (again, is it looking?) away from Peter. “Do I hear my club in your bag? May I have it back now? It's a bit annoying having to go everywhere with a seeing eye arachnid. Well, _I_ don’t mind too much, Peter, but I'm sure you've got better things to do than lead yo- your confusion is discernible. Why?”  
  
Peter abruptly stiffened as both of the men in red turned towards him, but continued to anxiously toy with the mask in his hands before him. Under his breath so that only he and his boyfriend _(is he my boyfriend if he's going to break up with me?)_ could hear, Peter whispered, “I haven't told him about _us_ , yet.” Daredevil, despite the guilt he felt about almost revealing their closeted relationship _(and closeted breakup)_ , kept his expression neutral, but tilted his head in a questioning _may I_? Peter thought for a moment but then apprehensively nodded without making eye contact. Might as well have the news delivered in a semi-public setting. The blow might be softer. Matt attempted to reassuringly smile back, then went to explain everything to a confused Deadpool.  
  
“Because, contr—"  
  
“Nope nope nope. Hold the phone. _What?_ ”  
  
“If you’d let me finish, it wou—"  
  
“Sorry, Matty-boy, not talking to you, one sec.” He cocked his head and made a few affirmative noises and rather histrionic gasps while pointing at Matt and Peter. The scene was broken when Deadpool angrily stalked over to Matt with one finger extended accusingly. He remained steadfast and straightened to his full height to match Wade’s while Spiderman tilted his head in confusion. “I know I don't listen to White as much as I probably should, but right now seems like a good time to voice his thoughts. He says, and I quote!, ‘Matthew cheated by accepting that bet since he'd already won.’” Wade said, with an abhorrent mockery of a posh English accent. “I mean, I would agree, were it true. But if what he thinks is happening is happening and you _didn’t_ cheat, that would mean you have a resolve of _steel_ , and I don’t think that's humanly possibly. I mean, have you—uh— _sensed_ that? _Were it true_. Is- _it_ –true?” the mercenary asked, punctuating each word with a poke to Matt’s “DD” insignia. _“True”? Has he talked to DP about being tired of me before this?  
  
_ “You're going to have to specify what you and White mean by ‘it’. I can’t quite verify ‘it’ if I don’t know what ‘it’ is. On the other matter at hand, you know I'm a lawyer, Wade. I wouldn't get myself into any bet I knew I would have to forfeit my win due to cheating. I have not won yet, but I do have a considerable advantage,” Matt said with a conniving smirk. He turned his head to the confused boy beside him and put his arm around the his waist to pull him into what seemed to be a comforting gesture. _Most likely to lessen the pain._ “My advantage is that Peter is mine, and I'm not one to share.” _What? Is my luck taking a day off or…  
  
_ After about five seconds, Peter was the first to intrude upon the silence that contained a palpable conglomeration of the emotions radiating from the three vigilantes: Wade’s indignity and shock, Matt’s smugness, and Peter's utter bewilderment. He lifted his head up towards Matt’s cowled face and quietly asked, “wait, so you _don’t_ hate me? I-I thought I messed everything up.” He paused to let the new revelation set in for a moment, then continued, “also, what ‘bet’?” With that, the Daredevil pulled him into a real embrace, banishing all doubts of his affection from his mind, but the lingering curiosity still had yet to be slaked.  
  
Matt sighed and rubbed comforting circles along Peter’s tense back. “You should know by now that I could never hate you. Hell, even if I'm too scared to say, well, _it_ back to you right now, I have no doubts that I'm well on my way to… it.” He stopped when he realized that the younger man had looked away in what seemed to be shame. Upon recognizing that his words might have been cause of Peter’s chagrin, Matt tilted the younger’s chin up and said, “Peter, look at me. You are _so_ wonderful. Don't let that inner voice tear you down. It’s wrong. I'd fight it if I could. I know it can't see what I and everyone else do. You, Peter Barnes-Rogers, are _perfect_. Don’t let anyone, or anything, tell you otherwise.” After a few seconds of uninterrupted closeness, a soft whisper came from behind them.  
  
“Well… I guess I should go? I mean, is it ruder to make a blind joke and interrupt, sneak away like a weird one night stand, or stay and watch this; guys, I really need your help for this one. Totally blaming that dick for putting us in this situation.” Suddenly remembering Wade’s presence, Peter blushed profusely and stepped away from Matt. “Oh, hey! Don’t mind me, just gonna—uh—eat this pizza and third whe—I mean—uh—fuck it—uh—didn't really have a contingency there, fellas. Sorry.”   
  
After awkwardly rocking on his feet a couple times, he snapped his fingers and exclaimed, “Hey! You haven't told Sweet Cheeks about our little dealio yet! I'm sure he'll _love_ it.” He paused for a moment while doing… something with his head. After remembering his obfuscatory mask, he clarified, “I’m winking, bee-tee-dubs. ‘Cause Saul Goodman knows what I'm talking about. Anyways, have fun, boys! Don’t talk to strangers, be home by midnight, use protection, yadda yadda yadda. I'll do patrol tonight!” He waved, then jumped off from roof onto the fire escape where he landed with a string of expletives that made the Catholic sigh and shake his head.  
  
Holding out his hand in Peter’s general direction, Matt then said, “How about I explain 'it' when we get inside. It's very cold, and I'm about forty-five percent sure that Wade won't kill anyone on his own.” Peter smiled and grabbed it gratefully as they headed back to the safety and warmth of the appartment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They talk, scheme, text, and flashback. That's pretty much it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun news: I decided to change the publication schedule, so my writings will now grace the weekends with their existence. Send me thoughts/comments/complaints below, please! I thrive on indirect attention.

“You _what_?” Peter asked incredulously as he looked up from his place on Matt’s chest. “I mean, I know you like to mess with Wade at every point possible, but seriously? _Me_? I’m really not wo—”  
  
“Babe, I'm going to cut you off before you say you're ‘not worth it’. I know you're a genius, but you're wrong. Back to the topic at hand, though we’ll come back to that, I‘m not going to rush you into anything. I respect and understand your apprehensions. Winning the bet doesn't actually mean anything to me, I just assumed it would be a good way to break the news to him.” Matt sheepishly looked away while continuing to comfortingly stroke Peter’s hair. “I was going to talk to you about it, but I kind of panicked. Anyways, if you're still unsure about sharing our relationship, we should probably ask Wade to keep quite before he goes to Xavier and asks him to project it to everyone.” Peter sighed while reaching over to the bedside table to grab his StarkPhone.  
  


_P: please don't tell anyone about matt and me yet. we will eventually but not now.  
  
_ _W: 'anyone’ doesnt include Wolvie does it??? i mean hes like a quarter roadkill and a third maple syrup_

  
While reading the message to Matt, a second came through.

_  
W: KIDDING!!1! ya know i love logan, but i didnt tell him. my mouth is sown shut <3 <3   
  
_ _P: thanks wade_

  
“Well, I guess that's all sorted out.” Peter tossed his phone back onto the table and returned to his place curled up by Matt’s side. “But about that bet, who initiated it? You don’t really seem the type to, but I've been wrong a couple of times.”  
  
“Technically, it was all Wade. He said that he missed you on patrol last night—I'm paraphrasing, by the way—but then I mentioned, for my own amusement, that I didn't think he had a chance with you. He then made a couple jokes at my expense and then actually made the proposition for the bet. The way Wade—uh—phrased it was why I punched him.” Matt shrugged as best he could without disturbing the younger. Peter motioned for him to continue. “I guess I'll directly quote for this one. He said ‘first to tap that spider ass gets dinner from the loser for a week’. I, well, I didn't like him talking about you like that, so…” he trailed off as he loosely punched the air and made an explosive noise to accompany it.  
  
“Hmm, I suppose I can tolerate that. I don’t think you have anything to fear, though. I mean, Wade’s great in his own special way and all, but I’m a _little_ bit infatuated with you,” Peter said while taking his boyfriend’s large hand in his own. “I’ve been thinking, though. I mean, if you're ok with it, ‘cause, like, if not, w—” he released a rather undignified squeak as Matt silenced him with a kiss then let up a few seconds later.  
  
“It's ok. Try again?” Peter, now flushed, took a deep breath before recommencing with a nervous laugh.  
  
“Well, what I guess I was _trying_ to say before I was so rudely interrupted—uh—crap, I winked because that was supposed to be sarcastic but th—” and once again, Matt leaned down to stop his rambling. _Probably for the best at this rate._ “Ok, I got it this time,” said Peter, then inhaled deeply. “Iwannatellpeopleaboutus. I mean, sorry, that was unintelligible. Wait-wait-wait; I'm fine! I want to tell people about us. I want to be with you all of the time.” Matt smiled fondly at his antics.  
  
“I'd like that, as well.” He, once again, kissed Peter, but it was returned this time. Without drawing too far away, Matt whispered against his lips, “Foggy, Karen, and Claire are the only civilians that I really know, and you've already met Claire, so if you wanted to practice, they might be best. You also know Jessica, Luke, and Danny, if you wanted to team up with them at some point.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess so. Other than my family, you, and Wade, Claire is the only one that knows I'm, well, she knows about _me_.” He looking down in contemplation and shame. “She wouldn't think it too… odd?” Matt put a finger under Peter’s chin to tilt it in his general direction.  
  
“Peter, you realize Claire sews a—what was it you called me? Ah, a ‘blind-ninja-lawyer’—she sews a blind-ninja-lawyer back together pretty frequently. She'll be fine. I promise,” he responded with a smirk. “I think the hardest part will be your dads and family, but for completely unrelated reasons. We can do next Wednesday for Foggy and Karen, if you're alright with that?”  
  
“I still don’t like how frequently you get hurt,” Peter mumbled with a small smile. _How_ _does_ _he_ _always_ _cheer_ _me_ _up?_ Magic- _blind_ - _ninja_ - _lawyer_. “It'll be just like coming out again. Although, you wouldn't know how scary that is, my closeted devil. That reminds me; I never did tell you how I came out to my family, did I?”

~-~-~ 

It was a year after first becoming the Spiderman that Peter actually went to his parents about it. “It” was his being Peter _and_ Spider-Man. At that time, Peter was called ‘Karen’. After a while of what he thought was discreetly mentioning the new vigilante/hero in conversations, Peter could tell his parents didn't dislike him, per se, but they were uncomfortable with not having any way to contact him or know his motivations. Peter came back to the Tower after his patrolling at about 2 in the morning where his adoptive fathers, Steve and Bucky or Pops and Dad, respectively, were waiting for him in the kitchen. Pops was the first to speak when the door opened.  
  
“Karen?” Peter sort of suppressed his flinch upon hearing that name. “Are you okay? It's really late and we were worried. This has been happening a lot lately. Anything you need to tell your dad and me? You know you can tell us anything.” _Eh, might as well._ It had been a long night, but after saving people as Spider- _Man_ , he always felt better about about being both of his selves, Peter and the vigilante. So, fueled by leftover adrenaline, he began.  
  
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry I haven't been a hundred percent honest recently. But you might want to sit for this?” His voice squeaked nervously towards the end. After they had migrated to the sitting area and his dads exchanged an anxious glance with one another, Peter continued. “I’ve, uh, well, I’ve got two things I need to tell you, but it would be greatly appreciated if you could wait to say anything until I'm done?” Steve nodded without a second thought, but Bucky was trying to analyze everything Peter had said for clues as to what the news could be. “Ok, I'm not gonna butter it up or anything, so, here it goes. Pops, Dad, surprise! I'm actually your son, my name is Peter, and I’m the Spider-Man.” He closed his eyes to avoid any negative reactions he might see. _Maybe combining everything made it worse instead of alleviating some pressure. Maybe some eloquence would have been better._ After a second or two, he heard his dad cough.  
  
“Peter, we're not mad. Thanks for trusting us. We can totally get your Uncle Tony to help you make a real suit, ‘cause that onesie is, well, it's not really cutting it.” Peter glanced up to see his pops smiling reassuringly and his dad looking excited about the prospect of training his kid and maybe even working with him in the future.  
  
“It’s not a onesie,” he muttered while smiling back. “What about the other part? I mean, was that included in the ‘Peter, we’re not mad’ comment?” Peter said that last part in an exaggerated Bucky-esque way. It made Steve laugh and his dad send mock glare at the two of them.  
  
“Well, we’ve had our suspicions for a little while, but it's not a huge deal for us. I mean—that was insensitive. This is a huge deal and we’re very proud, but you are still our kid and we weren't joking when we said we'd always love you,” Pops said while Bucky nodded his agreement. “We do need to talk about the Spider-Man thing, however, and get some ground rules set up, but I suppose that can wait ‘til morning. Sleep well, Peter.” Steve walked over to him and placed a kiss on top of his head and waited while Bucky hugged Peter goodnight. After they headed off to their room, their son sank back into the sofa with a sigh of relief. He abruptly opened his eyes and tensed. _Guess the gay part can “wait ‘til morning”, too._  
  
The next morning over breakfast and a pot of coffee for Dad, the rules were negotiated and written out in Pops’ sacred notebook. Natasha was sure to check it when she and the rest of the Avengers were told of the news the next day. 

 

_Peter's Rules for Vigilantism_

_1\. Come to dads with anything you need help with. **Or Aunt Nat.**_

_2\. No team ups unless thoroughly vetted._

_3\. School is still your foremost priority._

_4\. Avoid revealing your identity._

_5\. Try not to kill._

_6\. Second chances are ok, but be wary and reasonable._

_7. ~~No dating~~   ~~supers~~ ~~No dating civilians.~~ TBD. **Play this one by ear, kid.**_

 

“Nat, I don’t use black ink! You'll ruin my book!”

~-~-~

“Oh, my little araña, you're not very good at following rules.”  
  
“Yeah, well, you're the magic-blind-ninja-lawyer. Think you can defend us against the Avengers?”  
  
“So I'm ‘magic’ now, too?”  
  
“Yeah, go to bed.”  
  
“’Night, Spidey.”  
  
“Goodnight, Hornhead.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting the Nelson and Murdock family leads to a bit of chastisement. Also, a point of view change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter three! Thank you for attending and being patient with an incredulous amount of words with no plot. Anyways, feel free to lavish me with comments or kudos or anything, really.

“Hey Pops! Oh, hi, Dad. So about that plus one offer for dinner next week….”

From where Matt was brushing his teeth in the bathroom, he could hear Peter pacing whilst on the phone with his dads, _Captain America_ and _the Winter Soldier_ , talking about something as domestic as dinner. _This is easily the most nervous I've ever been for a ‘meet the parents’._ And yet, he felt he would do anything for Peter. Sit and listen to incomprehensible biochemistry documentaries? Sure. Introduce him to his work friends? No problem. Sit down and have birthday dinner with the entire disapproving Superfamily™ next week? Why not.

They were prepared; they had a semblance of a plan and everything. First, Peter would introduce Matt as blind-lawyer Matt. If it seemed like a good idea, then the vigilante part would be uncovered. _That’s not really a plan_. Improvisation is a skill that Matt had refined over the years, so that shouldn't be too much of a set back if the need arises. He tuned back into the phone conversation after rinsing his brush and walking back into their bedroom.

“Peter, we’re very glad that you're finally going to introduce us to your best guy.” _Must be Rogers, too earnest and nice to be Barnes._ “Yeah, yeah I'm included in that ‘we’; don’t worry. So, do we get to know anything about him beforehand? ‘Cause I'd really like to do some background checks.” _And there he is._ Upon seeing Matt reenter the room, Peter smiled nervously and shrugged, knowing his boyfriend had heard everything.

“Well, uh, I think you guys are really gonna like him, so I'm happy to do it. Not the background checks! I already did thos—uh huh—yeah—I got it—yup—ok b—love y—okloveyoubye!” Peter huffed out a laugh and handed Matt’s cane to him.

“Thanks. All set for the big reveal?” Matt asked with a smile on his face. He made sure to grab a coat for Peter, knowing how he tended to forget about himself.

“I think so. All they know is that you're a guy, for obvious reasons; we've been dating for about three months; and that you know my identities: Spider, gender, and Barnes-Rogers. I think I heard a couple of my uncles in the background, so I’m not sure who all is going to be there,” he smiled back and held out an arm that Matt took as they walked out the door. “And if you meant for today, I am. I like the one normal friend of yours that I know, so I'm not too worried that the others are serial killers.” Peter playfully bumped into him as they walked. Once they got to the street and were greeted by a gust of frigid November air, Matt handed his boyfriend the coat with a smirk. “Thanks. I probably would've lost a toe to frostbite if I didn't have you and a healing factor saving me all the time.”

“Well, you know, Spider-Man‘s saved Daredevil’s ass enough times that I think we're even. Besides, I like you too much to let you freeze.” They walked to Nelson and Murdock with comfortable small talk. As they walked through the door, Foggy addressed them while looking down at a file.

“Hey, Matt. So I transla—” he abruptly stopped and looked up when Karen elbowed him.   
  
She took over the conversation with her versed “Hello! Welcome to Nelson and Murdock. How may we help you?” Matt felt Peter’s heat signatures rise in a blush and heard Karen’s voice laced with an unsaid _who’s the kid?_ He also felt Peter look to him in guidance, so he led.  
  
“Not anything law related, today. I actually just wanted to introduce you to Peter, my boyfriend. Pete, Foggy and Karen; Foggy and Karen, Peter Parker.” Matt was careful to use his pseudonymous last name so that he would not be associated with any heroes other than the one in the room. Peter’s heat became less concentrated, implying he stuck out his hand. After the shock set in, Foggy’s presence merged with Peter’s as they shook, then Karen completely engulfed him in a hug. Her vitals all pointed towards excitement.

“Hi, Peter! It’s very nice to meet you. I work as a secretary here,” she said as she released a flustered Peter. Karen kept asking amicable questions and the boy’s racing heart progressively calmed to a healthier pace. As they were talking, Foggy leaned over to Matt and whispered by his ear.

“Um, buddy? Can we talk? In my office?” Matt nodded in affirmation, then again in a placating manner towards his slightly distressed boyfriend. Once the door clicked shut, Foggy turned again to Matt. “Ok, I've only got three questions. One, you're gay? I thought you were, like, the second straightest person I know. Two, how old is that kid? I swear to God, if you just introduced us to the jailbait who’s going to ruin our careers….” he trailed off and took a deep breath before regaining composure. “And three, does he know about, well, other you?”

Matt snorted out a laugh at his best friend’s interrogation. “Well, I'm technically not _‘gay’_ , but I am bi. I just tend to lean more towards the straight side, I guess. He‘s turning twenty next week, so no need to worry about the legalities of it. Does he really look that young? I mean, I’ve touched his face, but that's obviously not a perfect way to discern age. And, yes; Pete does know about the Daredevil. He’s stitched me up a couple of times.” As Foggy was listening and formulating his response in his head, Matt decided to listened in to Peter and Karen’s conversation when a potent sweetness hit his nose.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. Here, extra marshmallows. But I'm sure it's fine. Foggy can be a bit overprotective of Matt despite, uh, well, uh—” _Nice save, Karen._

“If you're trying to say the ‘vigilante thing’, then I know; don’t worry.” _Always so straightforward. Maybe I should recruit him into helping us out sometimes…._ After that lull in the others’ conversation, Foggy cleared his throat and spoke.

“Well, uh, that's good, I guess. About the not illegal thing, but vigilantism, too. But he looks, like, fifteen. Oh! And by the way, you just got bumped down to eleventh straightest person I know.” He sighed before adding, “we should probably get back to your boy toy before it gets too suspicious.” Matt ignored the comment and nodded as he followed Foggy out into the waiting area to be greeted by two familiar figures, now with warm cups of hot chocolate. Matt sat on the edge of the reception desk across the room from Karen and Peter with his cane resting to his side.

“Welcome back, boys. I was just telling Peter about the first time we went to Josie's as a firm. We’ll have to take him to our next monthly field trip!”

“Karen, he's like twelve,” Foggy said flatly but with a joking smile. Peter gaped at him before stuttering a response.

“I'm tw—well, I’ll tur—err I’m turning twenty next week?” he said, looking to Matt for backup.

“Well, I'm sure that Josie won't mind as long as we keep him with water. If not, we can just go over to Luke’s place, but that is always a health risk.” Karen and Foggy both nodded while looking apprehensive.

“It can't be _that_ bad. I mean, I’ve probably seen worse. Wade brought me to Sister Margret’s this one time aft—” His comment was cut off by wide eyed stares of indignation. Peter’s heartbeat rose again in his anxiety under the scrutiny of their gazes. Those same steely regards slowly turned to Matt before Foggy spoke up. _I’m in trouble._

“Matthew Michael Murdock,” _Yup; disapproving father tone on top of the full name._ “why does Peter know Wade? Wade _Winston Wilson_ , I presume? Why the hell does he know him well enough to be taken to the _Hellhouse_?” He took a deep breath before turning back to Peter and saying, “Oh, shit. You're not a merc, right? You're way too adorable to be a merc.”

“No! Of course I'm not a mercenary! I've _never_ condoned killing,” Peter replied quickly. “I just assumed that Matt had already told you guys about me.” Once again, Matt was the center of scrupulous glances. Karen was the one to break the tenseness, this time.

“Matt didn't even tell us he was seeing anyone. Is there something you need to tell us? Either of you, feel free to speak up.” Matt heard Peter look to him and quietly ask, “should I?”, so Matt shrugged subtly, hoping to convey a meaning of “if you're comfortable with it”. Matt figured that he'd spin a story about being a Barnes-Rogers or maybe even his gender and/or sexuality if he couldn't come up with anything convincing. He knew that Peter tended to keep those facts to himself, but pulling the LGBT card while being grilled about one of the most openly gay heroes/antiheroes out there seemed to be a good escape plan with not too many repercussions if he blanked. Peter took a deep breath.

“Well, uh, hm, ok. Bandaid technique? I'm your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?” he said in a slightly higher pitch than normal to be met with silence, once again. _Wait, what? Note to self: review vigilante rules and work on his quick thinking._ Foggy and Karen must have been making strange facial expressions again because in the lack of dialogue, Peter’s heart was beating at a scarily fast rate, usurping the silence for his ears alone. Matt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while holding his glasses in his other hand.

“Pete, we're _really_ going to have to work on your improvisational half truths. I meant any of the other things, but if you're comfortable sharing, they're trustworthy.”

“The ‘other things’? What do you m—oh! _Those_ ‘other things’? Um…” he petered out, seeming to dither about his words after his misstep. After waiting a couple of seconds, Foggy returned from his temporarily daze.

“Well, this has been an—uh— _enlightening_ afternoon. Any other shocking announcements? Hell, if you wanna, Peter, this would be a good time for your ‘other things’,” he said with a clawing motion executed with his middle and index fingers on both of his hands simultaneously. _Hmm, I’ll have to ask what that one means some time._ “But, don't worry, kid. We've got enough practice with secret identities. You've got nothing to worry about.” Matt shot him a thankful nod.

“Thanks, guys. I'm sorry I dropped that on you. I'll hold off on the ‘other things’ for now, but I'm sure it will come out at some point.” Matt chuckled softly at that, then waved off the small look of concern from Karen. Upon recognizing his phrasing, Peter’s face heated again. Karen glanced over and caught it, then announced,

“Aww, can we keep him, Matt? It's almost lunch now, and it's not like we have any clients. Let's go get something.” Various sounds of approval were made at the suggestion. “Great! Now that I mention it, maybe keeping him wouldn't be such a bad idea. He could be our little intern!” she said, grabbing her bag and heading to the door.

“Uh, Page, we can't pay him. We barely pay ourselves,” Foggy added while gesturing around their firm. Matt stood with his cane and walked over so that he could put his arm around Peter’s waist. He leant his head against Matt’s side for comfort and warmth as they followed into the cold street.

After a couple of feet, Matt spoke softy to hum. “You were right, though.”

“About what? I mean, what in particular?”

“Coming out is rather stressful.”

“Well, afterwards it's not too bad if all goes well. It's like being able to exist without having to watch every word and decision you make. Foggy seemed to take it well, though. I'm proud of you.” He huddled in tighter and smiled.

“Thanks, babe. I'm proud of you, too.” Matt leaned down to place a kiss on top of Peter’s hair. Foggy scoffed.

“Yeah, no; we're not ‘keeping him’. Murdock barely does enough work as it is. If _this_ ,” Foggy pointed back at them, “is what I’d have to put up with in a semiprofessional atmos—hey!” he yelled after Matt tripped him with his cane.

The man in question had the audacity to put on a sheepishly apologetic smile. “My bad, Fog. I guess I was just thinking about that time back in school when you, Betty Fisher, and tha—”

“You win! Well, uh,” he chuckled nervously. _Too easy, Foggy,_ “Here we are! The finest deli in our vicinity and budget. _Après vous, messieurs. Et_   _Karen_.” He opened the door for their progression into the comfortably warm atmosphere.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the last chapter: they go to lunch and oops: feelings.

Once they were all seated at a booth in the little deli next door to Nelson and Murdock with Matt and Peter on one side and Foggy and Karen opposite them, a semblance of normal conversation commenced. Matt was a bit worried about Peter; he had been tense the entire walk over. He calmed down with some touches and supportive words, but not enough to completely console Matt. The others seemed to be oblivious to his discomfiture seeing as how they continued to discuss the benefits of having ‘an adorable intern running around’. Only when Peter was brought into the conversation did Matt hear the anxiety slowly dissipate from his voice and posture.

“I hate to disappoint, but I'm more of a science and math guy. I'm pretty good at fixing machines, but all that lawyer jargon goes straight over my head.” Peter shrugged and grinned at Matt. Matt had tried to teach him some things about his day job, but Peter had promptly tuned it out in favor of anything else. He understood that it wasn't for everyone, so conversations about their day jobs usually consisted of Matt trying to recall _something_ from his high school chemistry and biology classes.

“Me, too, Peter. That's why I leave that to the self-proclaimed professionals. You could be my assistant secretary or something. Besides, our fax machine breaks often enough that your science skills would be fantastic to have around!” Karen replied optimistically. As she was saying that, their number was called, so Foggy and Peter offered to go retrieve the food. When they were out of a normal human’s earshot, Karen turned to Matt. “That kid is too precious. I think you guys are good together and I'm glad you’re happy, even if you're old.” He was appreciative of her approval but sighed nonetheless.

“Karen, I'm 29; it's not _that_ big of a difference. I'm not sure how his parents are going to react, though.”

“Just be your normal, charming, decade-older self and all should be fine. And if they threaten you, there's no way they'll be able to win.” _Well, that's not true in the least. One’s got a metal arm and the other is America._ “Also, I've been meaning to ask, if it's not too much of an intrusion of your privacy, but what is your sexuality? I always assumed you were straight, but that obviously isn't the case.”

“Yeah, I'll try. But it's not a problem. I’m bisexual, but it can be easy to endorse the heteronormative side.” Foggy returned holding his and Karen’s sandwiches with Peter behind him holding his own and Matt’s. _Is it hot in here?_ Peter and Foggy’s faces were flushed, but an intuitive aspect of his mind told him that one of them had said something that made them both uncomfortable. They slid back into their respective sides of the booth. When the younger sat, Matt gave him a peck on the cheek and felt his temperature and eyelids rise some more.

“Thanks, araña.”

“Uh, yup! No problem.” The others across from them laughed a little at the display, then settled in to eat. After a couple minutes of sharing stories and small talk, Matt’s phone sounded off with the announcement of “Wade, Wade, Wade”. He felt Peter look to him in concern, knowing that their friend much preferred texting with the exception of emergencies. Matt sighed and apologized.

“I’m sorry, I should probably take this.” He accepted the call and put the phone on the side of his head closer to Peter, knowing that his slightly enhanced senses would allow him to hear. “Wilson? Are you alright?”

“Hiya, Homer! I'm sort of ok? Like, I've got this thing that's rupturing my femoral artery, but ya know, I'll walk it off. Wanna meet at the docks tonight? Oh, yeah! The purpose for the pleasant surprise call is that there's a little criminal drug thingy I've been scouting that I figured Spideydevil might want to help with. Abandoned warehouse, super cliché, nice date night.” Ignoring the weirder aspects of Wade’s message, Matt looked over the Peter and then cocked his head in a silent question.

“Super cliché warehouse date night sounds good.” Matt nodded and smiled while Peter clarified the situation to an understanding Foggy and Karen.

“Ok, Wade. We’ll meet you there at 11:30. Text Peter the address.” He hung up and reentered the amicable conversation. Karen turned to him with a smile that felt… slightly different. More menacing? He was unsure what that meant.

“Matt, take care of Peter tonight. I will call and check in with you guys tomorrow morning.” _Well, that explains it. She's already adopted my love._ He sighed. _Wait, what? No, I was avoiding that train of thought for a reason._ Peter was so _good_. He deserved so much better than Matt. Peter never killed; he was always so optimistic and _good_ despite everything in his past. He was brilliant, a beacon of hope for so many. Matt, well, he only deliberately stopped killing and torturing when he got close to and started falling for Spiderman. And now, they were in _love_? This angel of boy and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? It was all so theatrically ironic, but Peter was better than that. He deserved better.

“Matt, you still with us?” Foggy leaned in and snapped by his glasses, abruptly reawakening Matt from his contemplative stupor.

“Um, yes, yes. To both. Sorry, I'll , um, excuse me for a moment?” He heard Peter’s heart speed as he stumbled through his response. He heard everything. The dog across the street, the couple fighting upstairs, _everything_.

“S-sure,” Peter replied meekly as slid out of the booth to release Matt. As he walked towards where he knew the bathroom was, he could hear Foggy softly consoling his boyfriend.

“I'm sure he's fine, kid. Matt does this thing where gets a sort of epiphany, but it's ok.” _Damn right, it’s an ‘epiphany’._ Once he closed the door behind him, Matt splashed a little bit of lukewarm water on his face desperately trying and failing to keep his senses under control. That had no effect, so he slid down the wall and onto the floor. After what seemed to be an eternity of the entire city’s din in the small room, a small voice cut through it.

“Matt,” it said gently, “if you can hear me, it’s Peter. Can I come in?” Matt tried to make a little sound to signal something along the lines of “yes”, but it was too _loud_. The sizzling of the stove top, the clinking of ice against glass, the squeak of old hinges, the pandemonium of simultaneous conversations, the heartbeats; they were all _too much._ The feel of where his blazer rubbed against his wrist was burning. The smell of colognes, sewage, food, an- and Peter. Peter’s unique and wonderful scent pierced through everything else, slowly grounding Matt to reality. He heard the younger’s heart speed up, presumably at the sight of Matt on the floor. Matt felt himself gently becoming vertical. Due to the close proximity, all he could hear was Peter’s blood flying through his veins, but that was ok. It was overwhelming, but not in a particularly bad way. He allowed himself to blank out, surrounded by the comfort of Peter’s presence. _I love him…._

Once an indeterminable amount of time passed and the noise receded back to a manageable level, Matt checked back in to reality. At some point, he was moved back to the office. His blazer and tie were off somewhere where he could not feel them disrupting the air flow of the vents. Matt groaned a little as he sat up straighter, hearing Peter’s breath hitch a bit at seeing him in a sentient state again.

“Matt,” he whispered, “are you with me?”

“Yeah. I'm fine now. I'm sorry if I scared you. Usually, it's a slow enough decline that I can handle it or just be in a better place. What time is it?” Matt asked, internally cringing at the hoarseness of his voice. Foggy walked back into the Matt’s office with a bottle of room temperature water and his missing vestments.

“Here you go, buddy. Make sure that he drinks that, Pete.” Peter nodded and returned his attentions to Matt. “You were only out for around fifteen minutes. Didn't miss any new cases,” he said with a smirk. Foggy handed Matt’s clothes to Peter and then added to him, “You and lover boy can go anytime. Make sure he gets some rest, though, especially before your ‘thing’ tonight.” He made that clawing gesture again before patting Matt on the shoulder and heading out. He opened the bottle and consumed half of it before setting it down. Peter took the opportunity to wrap his arms around him and rest his head on the taller’s chest.

“I'm glad you're ok. I hate seeing you in pain.” He sighed and then stepped back. “All set to go?”

“Yeah. I'm sorry I ruined that. I know you were nervous about meeting them, and then I had to g-” Matt was abruptly silenced by his boyfriend’s hand over his mouth.

“Matt, stop. Do your little Catholic guilt thing later, ok? Besides, you didn’t ‘ruin’ anything.” Matt, disbelievingly, shrugged and then offered his arm to Peter.

“I'm not going to agree with that, but I can put it off for now. Let's go home?” Besides, Matt had some planning to do. He may not be the paragon of existence that Peter deserves, but he was going to make a damn good love confession. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys thanks for sticking with me. So in the not too distant future (next Sunday, A.D.) posting may become a bit more sporadic due to my being busy in the real world (which sucks, by the way; don't do it). Preemptively sorry for a potential future!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon typical violence tag! And back to Peter's perspective. Also sarcasm and google results for "when to end a chapter".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well geez who'd've though writing fight scenes would be hard? Answer would be me, and I was right. Anyways! Onwards.

“DD, hurry up. I will not hesitate to leave you here, and besides, you need a break.” And all he got back in response was a smirk. It was already eleven, and Matt was still reading some file in just the bottom half of his costume with his hair disheveled from rubbing it in stress. Peter didn’t necessarily mind the state of undress for a while, but they needed to _go_.

“Babe, I know you wouldn't leave me. But, you don’t think I could fight like this? I might not be able to see it, but I do know that you've been staring for quite some time,” Peter blushed at being caught in his attempt at subtlety and started to walk towards his boyfriend. “Maybe I could just awe people int-”  
  
“Nope. I don’t allow it. First off, you are mine. This,” he ran his hands slowly down Matt's scarred chest, “is only for me to be ‘awed’ by. And two, you get stabbed too often to _not_ go out in full kevlar. Go suit up,” he punctuated his last remark by stealing the papers.

“Fine,” he drew out petulantly with a dramatic sigh. _How is this man-child able to pull off the Daredevil persona?_ While Matt walked over to the closet and tugged the rest of his armor on, Peter’s phone buzzed to alert him to a text from Deadpool.

_**hey oetey pie!!! updatr on mt situation, i domt jave a rifht arm or many ledt finhers currebtly, sp you and dd are honna have to take care of thr drug bist. Xoxoxp** _

_ok, thanks dp. take it easy. also, there’s a diction button and calling if you ever can’t type._

_**… shhh.** _

“Well, we’re on our own tonight. From what I can tell, Wade is lacking some fingers, an arm, and general knowledge of modern telecommunications. Ready?” Matt nodded in reply and then they slipped out the window. After running across some rooftops (web-slinging would be faster, but Peter didn’t want to leave Matt behind), the duo came across an innocuous looking warehouse. Well, innocuous to Peter. Daredevil, however, stopped abruptly and cocked his head.

“There's a lot of marijuana in there. It's kind of throwing off the other scents, but I definitely smell and hear about six people armed with knives and a few bats. Just goons. One has a pistol; it sounds old. There's also… some sort of chemical. I can't t what it is right now, but it's definitely harmful and most likely the lethal additive for the pot.” He paused for a moment and then chuckled. “Well, Jessica Jones just got here. We should probably go before she kills our leads.” Peter swallowed down his anxiety and nodded. They jumped down and walked up to the door.

“Well, they don’t seemed very worried about being caught. No cameras, no traps, n-” Peter was cut of by a pained scream, a loud crash, and an angry yell. “Uh, I guess that's our cue?” He opened the door only to have a non-sentient man thrown into him. He caught him and stumbled a little before dropping him and joining the fight.

In the warehouse, there were large crates, one with an unconscious man imbedded in it, along the left side and planters where the growing plants resided under lamps along the right. Jessica was by the back wall fighting a giant while two others tuned to look at the new arrivals, and the fourth attempted to flee out a side door. Peter webbed that last one’s foot and arm to floor before subduing the man on the left. Matt dodged a panicked stab from the one on the right before taking him out with strike to the temple. Jones, appearing to get frustrated with the slow pace involved in not brutally maiming people, mumbled “fuck it” before breaking her guy’s knee with a kick. He fell screaming until he was knocked out. Jessica wiped her hands on her jeans while leisurely walking towards where Matt and Peter were standing.

“Well, boys, as mu—” a sudden jolt ran down Peter’s spine and then she was suddenly cut off by him tackling her to the ground as a loud bang went off. Matt threw a club, disarming the gunman that was the one who tried to run earlier. While he scowled and approached the petrified man, Peter looked down at Jessica to see her angry and clutching her side.

“Oh, crap. Uh, well, I’m so sorry; I should ha—” She chuckled.

“Kid, it’s fine. It only grazed me. Not like I haven't been shot before.” Peter stood and offered her a hand up. She took it then tuned to where Matt was with a now unconscious shooter. “DD, you're gonna have to keep this one. He’s always fucking adorable.” Peter startled at her.

“Wait, how did you know that we, uh, that—uh” he motioned between himself and his boyfriend. Matt sighed and shook his head.

“She knows _now_.”

“Hang on. We’ll finish this outside. One of you call the cops.” She turned and walked out the door. The Devil went to follow her and then motioned for a terrified Peter to do the same. He took a deep breath before grabbing a phone off of a body to call 911 and then following the others out. They were waiting for him on a nearby roof. Matt was standing perpendicular to Jessica with his arms crossed and she had one had on her hip with the other firmly holding her wound. Peter sighed and climbed up to meet them. He looked around once he reached the roof and was met only by the sound of distant sirens. Somehow, that was less awkward than the conversation that ensued a few seconds later.

“I gotta say, Matt, I thought you were a straight laced Catholic boy.”

“Jess, you know what I do at night.”

“Yeah, apparently sleep with kids? Oh, and that whole killing thing.”

Peter sighed before Matt could retort. “‘A’, you know I'm almost twenty. ‘B’, he stopped killing. And—actually, I changed my mind; it’s irrelevant.” He flushed beneath his mask at that. There was a pause in which Jones looked between the two men. Peter blushed a bit more and started fidgeting with his web shooters. Suddenly, she snorted and looked at Matt.

“Spider-kid over here is telling me that y-“

“Jessica Campbell Jones Cage, do not make this any harder than it already is.”

“Ok, well, no further questions, your Honor.” She huffed and shook her head. “In all seriousness, though, I’m assuming you boys want to keep this quiet for now?” Peter nodded. “You got it.” She pulled her phone out. “Luke should be finishing up with the bar soon if you wanted to come with. I know I sure as hell could go for a drink.”

“I'd love to, but again, _almost_ twenty, and I've got a lawyer boyfriend who only defends innocents.” Matt smiled, then walked closer to Peter and but an arm around his waist, making him blush further. _This is why masks are important. CW Arrowverse Barry Allen, you are a lifesaver._

“You know, as long as you don’t actually drink anything, I'm sure it'd be fine.” He paused for a moment to listen, then said a bit more quietly to Peter, “if you don't want to, that's fine. We can patrol then catch up on sleep. But if you're up for a little bit of social interaction, I'll follow you.” Peter smiled thankfully at Matt’s understanding then turned to where Jessica was waiting unamused with her arms crossed.

“We should probably get going. There's always petty crimes to stop,” Peter apologized with a shrug.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Stay safe, boys.” She turned and climbed down the fire escape. _Well, that wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been. Even if now we’ve come out to 50 percent more people than anticipated_. Matt walked up and wrapped his arms around Peter as he rested his head on top of the other’s.

“I'm proud of you. You did really well.” Peter smiled and leaned in closer.

“Thanks. I wasn't lying about going; although, you would know if I was. And I promised my aunt I’d FaceTime her afterwards.” Matt made an affirmative noise then handed Peter his backpack where some civvies had been thrown unceremoniously in earlier.

“Sure thing. I can make a grocery run while you're doing that. Need anything?”

“We’re running kind of low on hydrogen peroxide, but other than that, nothing essential.” Not because of anything bloody, but because Peter was testing how common materials reacted with his web fluid for controlled amounts of time. Nothing has exploded yet.

“Got it,” Matt punctuated with a kiss to Peter’s masked forehead. “I’ll see at home when you're done with Queens.” And with that, he disappeared into the night to listen for crime in Hell's Kitchen. Peter smiled after him, then turned to his domain.

Fortunately, it was an exhaustingly slow night, so after a few muggings, Peter swung back to Matt’s apartment where he changed into some jeans and one of Matt’s super comfy old sweatshirts (he had many) then set up his computer. After a few rings, his Aunt’s fiery red hair and bright smile popped up on his screen.

“Hi, Aunt Nat! How are you?” he asked with a little wave.

“Hey, Peter. I'm well, thanks.” They continued amicably for a while, just checking up on the other’s work, in and out of costume.

“So your uncle, Tony, has been gossiping a bit lately. Shocking, I know,” she replied with a smile. _Ok, this is not going to be a win in my book._ “Uncle Tony” and “gossiping” in the same sentence was a recipe for disaster. “He’s been spouting stuff about next week, and I just wanted to check in with you about your boyfriend before you come over next week, if you don’t mind,” she replied innocently. And that is always cause enough for suspicion. He made an embarrassingly high pitched _mhmm_ noise as he nodded, signaling her to continue.

“I was curious as to what he does. I know you don’t want to tell us much, but that's a negligibly small bit of information, right?” _What does she get out of knowing this? Come on, Spidey, think!_ It is pretty negligible; there are tons of lawyers in New York. Couldn't be too much harm, right? When he came to, Nat was looking at him with an amused expression. “Spider to spider?” _Damn it._

“He’s a… lawyer?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just, uh, long day.” Peter shot what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Will you answer if I ask you why you're curious?” She smirked and huffed out a laugh.

“You're learning, _malen’kiy_   _pauk_. Maybe this ‘lawyer’ is good for you,” he chuckled as Nat winked. “But in short, no, I will not. Is there anything else I can know about him? Is he funny? Smart? Handsome?”

Peter beamed at her approval. Even as a doting aunt, Natasha’s praise was not easily won. He smiled softly at the other questions and nodded. “He's really funny. Brilliant, too. And _really_ handsome. Like, woah, but yeah, he’s great, Aunt Nat; you'll like him.”

“I damn well hope so for his sake. Now, I'm sure you have some science thing to do. I’ll see you next week, Peter. Take care.”

“You’re right, as always. Goodnight.” He clicked the end call button and then walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth. _Has Matt always had mirrors around or is it ju—oh crap._ And that's when he realized he grabbed a Columbia University sweatshirt. Which obviously wasn’t Peter’s. That's gonna be a weird conversation. _Hey, babe! So I was wearing your sweatshirt (super soft, by the way) and now my aunt will know everything about you and anyone you've ever talked to in a few minutes?_ Yeah….

His thoughts were fortunately disrupted by Matt amiably speaking to him from the living area.

“Hey, Peter. I got you some of the Americone Dream that you like. I grabbed the biggest H2O2 they had. How wa—,” he was cut off by Peter cocking his head in confusion and crossing his arms. “Everything ok?"

“Matty, I really appreciate the notion and all, but why?” He thought for a moment before sighing and continuing. “You didn’t kill anyone, did you?”

“No, of course not! It was a big day. I figured we should celebrate a little, and the best way I know is ice cream. I thought we could put some music on while you do homework and I finish reading some reports?” he replied as if that was completely obvious. Peter grinned and hugged him, predicament forgotten for a moment. But only a moment. He tensed up a bit in Matt’s arms. The older made a little bit of space between them before asking again, “Are you ok? You didn’t break anything on patrol, but did I miss something?”

“No! I'm fine.” Truly, patrol was laughably easy that night. “Well, uninjured. Anyways, you know how I FaceTimed my aunt?” Matt nodded with furrowed brows. “I accidentally wore one of your old alumni sweatshirts and now she'll likely know everything about you and everyone you've ever talked to in a few minutes.” _Probably should have brushed it up a little first._

“Pete, it’s ok. I mean, I’m going to meet them soon enough, anyways,” he replied with a small smile. “So, ice cream?”

~-~-~-~

As soon as Natasha got to her room a floor below, she opened the group text with Pepper, Clint, Sam, and Tony.

_N: I’m in. Sitrep on current bets?_

_C: 35 on Wade Wilson._

_T: I say Harry Osborn! 50_

_P: I'm not involved in this. This is my nephew and one of us has to be an adult._

_S: I’ll take Johnny Storm for 20, Alex. Leave responsibility to Steve. Maybe Bucky._

_T: pep, ur backing me 15%_

_N: I say it’s Matthew M. Murdock. 50._

_T: uh, random, but thE GAME IS ON!!!_

_C: so this is last call. anyone wanna change it up? Im good with mine._

_T: yup_

_S: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯_

_N: double mine._

Natasha shut off her phone with a knowing smirk. “JARVIS? Everything you can tell me about the Daredevil.”

_“Results have just been uploaded to your private server, Agent Romanoff.”_

The game is on, Tony. The game is on.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast, interrogation, and a POV switch in the middle (crazy, I know). “~~~~~~~~~” signifies the switch (plus a little time jump 'cause I'm a giver); “---------“ is a time jump. Could I have just written in one perspective? Yes. Yes I could have. Also, I /really/ need to tone down the italics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well um sorry about the delay. I am, in fact, /not/ dead. I loved hearing from people, though! I'll try to be more regular, but I'm not going to be able to make promises (obligations are the worst, fun fact). Again, I can't believe that people have set eyeballs upon this and kudoed it; I love you guys. I am hecking open for plot suggestions, as well, if there's something you want to see!

As was tradition on the Sunday mornings they spent together, Peter and Matt were standing in the kitchen preparing breakfast before they went their separate ways. It was always a bit earlier than he would have liked to have been awake, but Peter was ok with the sacrifice if it meant some of Matt’s apartment-renowned bacon (no innuendo intended, it’s just really good bacon). Peter was sitting on the island with the pancakes he had just finished (blueberry, of course), humming and bobbing his head in time with the record Matt had on. Sinatra, this time. “I know it sounds crazy, but records really do help with the sound.” _Whatever you say, dear. And people say_ I’m _the hipster._ It was endearing, in its Matt-ish way, but _still_.

Matt huffed, not in amusement, per se, but more in a half-of-me-just-lost-the-mental-debate kind of way. These debates always lead to a begrudgingly asked question, and today was no different. After a moment, he turned towards where his boyfriend was waiting eagerly. “Why don’t you sing?” Peter blinked and cocked his head. “I mean, you love music. I hear you hum in the shower and now, but you never _sing_.”

 _Why don’t I sing?_ He drew his brows together in contemplation before answering. “I guess I don’t like my voice. I mean, I know most people can’t sing that well.” Peter paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “I have trouble keeping my singing voice as deep as I’d like it to be, I guess, and I can’t really sing along with male singers easily. Does that make any sense?” Matt nodded with a carefully (and suspiciously) blank face and sighed as he deposited the bacon onto a plate.

“It does. But, if it’s any consolation, I really like your voice,” he replied, sporting a soft grin. Peter huffed out a disbelieving laugh at that, but blushed besides himself. _That’s must be his mutation: making Peter blush. And scaring people. Is that a thing? I should text Bobby…._ Matt turned and took Peter’s hands in his own with a bit more stern expression.

“I’m serious. Your voice is amazing, and that is coming from a guy whose hearing is at eleven all the time. Besides, if y—” He was interrupted by a snort from the man he was trying to comfort. He cocked his head. “What?”

“You’re fine, it’s just,” Peter got out between giggles, “you’ve seen _Spinal Tap_?”

“Ok, never mind. Go eat your damn breakfast,” Matt replied, shaking his head with a smile. His hair glimmered copper in the morning sun and his eyes crinkled in that adorable way, so Peter just _had_ to smile back. Can’t fault him for having this Adonis of a boyfriend. He leaned down and gave him a quick kiss. “I’m not complaining, but was there something that brought that on?”

“Well,” he began, “you didn’t burn the bacon, so that was nice, but you look beautiful right now.” Matt faltered a little at that as he stepped away to move the plates to the table. Peter had always loved the way that his boyfriend looked, but tried not to mention it too much. He knew that, due to his blindness, Matt never felt that he could truly return any compliments regarding appearance. Well, he could, but he didn’t think “I like touching your face” was a compliment as much as it was creepy, despite Peter’s protests that it was sweet. It bothered Matt, with the knowledge he had about Peter’s insecurities regarding something he could never offer true reassurance about.

After a little while, he cleared his throat and responded. “I, uh, thanks. If that’s the reaction I get, I’ll try wear this tie more often.” Matt held out a hand to help Peter off the counter. While extremely unnecessary, it was a cute notion, so he took it and held it for the short walk over. Once they had sat down and piled food onto their plates, easy dialogue began.

“So, what are your plans today?” Matt asked as he reached for the syrup. He always managed to never hold it where it was sticky. _That's gotta be his secondary mutation. I should_ really _text Bobby…._

“I think I’m gonna go to the library and try to get ahead in my work, maybe take some spider-selfies if it looks like a good day for it.” He paused to look at his schedule then continued, “Actually, I apparently have lunch with MJ, Gwen, and Harry at that Vietnamese place I took you to in Queens, so disregard most of what I just said.” Peter shrugged and did not evade the sticky spots on the syrup when he grabbed it.

“That’ll be good to see them again.” Matt gave a quick smile before taking a bite of his pancake, then the enthralling smile morphed into a smirk. “You know, your pancakes are almost as good as Wilson’s.”

Peter gasped in mock offense and brought a hand dramatically to his heart. _Sue me. The theater teacher hated me._ “Why must you wound me so? You know my aspirations are to become the supreme breakfast chef.” In all fairness, Deadpool's pancakes were rather spectacular. He let his façade drop with a huff of laughter. “I think I’d have to physically fight Uncle Thor for that title, though, and that doesn’t seem like a good idea.” Matt laughed at the mental image, then realized that Peter wasn’t entirely kidding.

“Thor makes pancakes?” And then they were discussing the weird domestic abilities of Earth’s mightiest heroes. Knitting, floral arrangement, poetry, make up; it was a strange list. Conversations were a bit strange (but interesting) as a vigilante raised by superheroes.

~~~~~~~~~

It was a lovely mass. Matt talked to Father Lantom about Peter and, as usual, welcomed the support and approval. The “you’ve been looking very happy lately”s and “I’m proud”s made his heart soar.

Hearing new people attending church was not rare enough of an event for Matt to truly worry about it. That was until, while he was standing outside, a person started approaching him. _Heels, dress, abhorrent perfume, shoulder length hair, silver necklace, two things that sounded like tasers, and six knives of varying sizes._ She approached him in a calculated way, but it seemed harmless as there was no reach for weapons. When she got close enough, she gently put a hand on Matt’s shoulder and murmured, “we need to have a chat.” He tensed when he recognized the voice as the Black Widow but maintained a practiced composure as he felt her slip a piece of paper in his hand. Matt ran his thumb over it, feeling for Braille, but only felt a light indent identifying it as having been written in cursive. Alongside the creases from being folded and shoved in a pocket, it was illegible to him.

He raised an eyebrow at Romanoff. “Ma’am, I appreciate the notion, but I’m a very taken man,” he said with a smirk, only to be met with tells of impatience. _This is one of the fun family members?_ Matt dropped the joking attitude. “I can’t read this.” She studied him for a moment, trying to see if there was a lie, but then nodded.

“Fair point,” the Widow conceded with a small grin. Not a friendly grin, more like a shark’s: foreboding and would break a lesser man. “It says ‘meet me in DeWitt Clinton Park in two hours. I trust you’ll be able to find me.’ Will you?”

“Be able to find you or come?”

“Both.”

“Yes on both accounts, ma’am.” She rolled her eyes at the formality, but Romanoff subtly reveled in the respect she desired. _Play with that, but not too much. Widow’d be pissed if she thought she was being manipulated. That’s her job._ She gave a quick nod then walked off. The impending “chat” was, overall, not totally unexpected. Matt was doubtful the previous night when Peter said his aunt would be able to glean information from a video call, but he readied himself for confrontation. Of course, that prior nonchalance was now replaced with less confident thoughts. _What the fuck am I doing?_ and _Could she have chosen somewhere with less children?_ were the most frequent.

\---------

Matt tracked that God awful perfume to a bench by the waterside. In what he hoped to look like a peace offering, he brought with him a tea and a hot chocolate, the same way Peter likes it: no whip with cinnamon and a shot of espresso. She was annoyed and a bit maternal (not that he’d ever voice that out loud; he likes his appendages where they are) as she spoke to someone on an earpiece.

“No, Clint; you can't change. I have photographic evidence solidifying _all_ of the statements.” She paused and rolled her eyes. “No, you can’t call in a life debt for this.” Through the earpiece, he was able to hear a pettish sigh and a fine before a click that signified the end of the call as well as a polite time to approach. The Widow looked up at him and said to him, “please, have a seat.”

Well, Matt may have been a vigilante, but he was nothing if not polite, especially to those who require it. He did so and offered the cocoa to his interrogator. “Hot chocolate? You seem a bit cold.”

“And you're early. Thank you, though.” Romanoff cautiously took a sip and her heart sped up before she quickly reined it back to an almost convincingly calm pace. “Mr. Murdock,” - _trying to make me seem old_ \- “how do you know this? Pete, obviously, but…?” she trailed off.

“Please, call me Matt. He’s mentioned a few times how close you two are, so I guessed that this might have been something you shared with him.” He shrugged and noticed that she showed signs of pride at that. _Overprotective armed aunt, but she’s proud of her relationship with Peter. I can work with that._ “So, what can I do for you?”

She laced her hands together and leaned forwards as she studied him. “I’m curious about your extracurricular activities, but that’s kinda boring in our business, isn’t it? No, I’m here to give you the shovel talk. Well, the twenty-first century version.” He nodded and sat back on his side, awaiting judgment in a way not dissimilar to confession earlier that day. “You religious?”

Matt nodded again. “Catholic.” There was an “obviously” that he left unsaid for politeness and safety reasons.

“Good. That’ll make this easier for me.”

\---------

After many painful minutes, Romanoff took a breath to conclude her rant. “So, still coming to dinner?” she said, her voice conveying a smirk. Matt smiled in return.

“Ma’am, you’re a terrifying speech giver, but fear for myself will never be enough to take me away from Peter.” He paused and tensed as the Widow studied him and cocked her head.

“So you do love him.” It wasn't up for discussion. Matt went to ask how she knew, but Romanoff silenced him off with a wave of her hand. “You’re not the first boyfriend of Pete’s that I’ve threatened, but you are the first where it matters.” She leaned towards him conspiratorially. “You’re smart. Don’t hurt him.”

 _What is she accusing me of?_  His previously expressionless face contoured into a scowl at the implications. “I would _neve_ -”

“Yeah, I know. Just wanted to reiterate the point, summarize, whatever,” she replied, her voice laced with faint amusement at the outburst. “One of Peter’s… _less savory_ uncles has made it clear that he wants to meet you. This amplifies the point that you, under any circumstances, may not tell anyone about this dinner or any other events,” Matt nodded his assent and understanding as he pondered what had been said. A “less savory uncle” could mean just about anything when it came to the superhero scene. It could mean Stark, depending on the day, but it could also mean a minor villain. Trick Shot was related to Barton, right? Maybe it could be him? But Lang is technically an ex-con, so he might very well qualify as “unsavory”.

“I understand. It’s better if I separate my day job from my — how did you phrase it? —  _‘extracurricular activities’_ anyways, so I wasn’t planning on it,” he responded. When she didn’t move to say anything, Matt continued with a friendly, if a bit forced now, grin. “Well, it was a pleasure to finally meet you, but, if you’ll excuse me, I need to run some errands.” He extended his hand towards Romanoff.

She took it with a firm grasp and apathetically said, “You too, Matthew. See you Wednesday,” before letting go with a nod and walking off. _Well, I’m not dead, so that may have gone well._ Or not. There was really no definite way to tell. While he planned out his route to his apartment, his thoughts were interrupted by a soft chime of _Peter-Peter-Peter._

“Hello?” He decided to go with an unassuming greeting, just in case someone who wasn't Peter was on the other side.

“Hey, Magoo!” the familiar voice responded jovially. In the background, there was a quiet snort followed by _he called his boyfriend ‘Magoo’_ , which coaxed a smile and an eye roll from Matt. It was a cute nickname. “So, I just realized that I don’t know what color your eyes are. You’re on speakerphone, by the way, so don’t say anything embarrassing.”

“What, like how you’ve commandeered my DVR for John Oliver and nerd shows?” he asked innocently, triggering giggles and surely a scowl. “Seriously, though, Pete. I don’t wear my glasses all the time at home. Apparently, I will have to use the ‘my eyes are up here’ line more often.” he replied with smirk evident in his voice. He heard a small sigh of exasperation over cackles from the other end of the line.

“First of all, you love John Oliver. Secondly, it was just Jake Tapper before I fixed it, so hush. And, _also_ , you know what I meant about your eyes, jerk.”

“Yeah, I do. They were brown. Pretty boring, really. Not nearly as nice as yours.” He heard (probably) mocking coos.

“Matt, you’re blind.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.” More giggles. _I’m not really that funny. Means that Pete’s blushing and frustrated. So adorable._ “So, can I ask why you’re curious?” He could hear muffled discussion and then the phone being moved.

“Of course, _Magoo_ ,” sickeningly sweetly said not-Peter. Matt frowned and huffed at this not-Peter using real-Peter’s nickname for him. “This is MJ, current holder of the best friend title.” Indignant protests. “I had Pete call you so I could get your number and give you the shovel talk later. T-T-Y-L, Murdock.” _Click._

Somehow, MJ managed to make that rather ominous coming from a civilian teenager. _Not bad._ Wait, no. Matt had had enough “shovel talks” coming from mean redheads (albeit the first one was a natural) for a lifetime. What was that meme that Peter had tried to explain to him? The “do it for him” meme? _It’s so funny. Like—like there's — uh — words that obviously say “do it for him”, but then there's pictures of whoever the “him” is, and it’s_ super _awkward. Kinda looks like a bulletin board? Just, um, take my word for it?_

Yeah. Matt would do anything for him.

And wasn’t that a scary thought.


End file.
